


Wear the Mask, Drop the Key

by Cautiously_Dauntless



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Eventual Fluff, Fist Fights, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Multi, Poverty, Protective Parents, Rebellion, Strict Parents, What Have I Done, music for no reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-28 03:06:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13894920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cautiously_Dauntless/pseuds/Cautiously_Dauntless
Summary: “Good," his tongue ran over his lips as a snowflake melted on his nose, and the air seemed to bristle with both heat and the chilly breath of frost. "Now let's try again: are ya a runaway?”Even though the words didn’t feel right in my mouth, like cardboard had suddenly been stuffed into the back of my throat, I conceded, because that was all my father ever taught me to do. “I’m… I’m a runaway.”“Good,” he hauled me up, knocking me on the shoulder.I stared at him, dumbfounded.“Welcome to the rebellion.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRealKags](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealKags/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Drones](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13873716) by [TheRealKags](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealKags/pseuds/TheRealKags). 



> hey guys 
> 
> sorry i havent written anything in a while!  
> so TheRealKags recently posted a work called 'Drones.' even though there's only one chap out rn it seems like it will be absolutely fabulous! the fic im writing here has a similar setting, but i think it will turn out differently than what TheRealKags has planned. that said, you definitely keep tabs on both works. (I'd even argue that Drones will be better than my trash haha)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama leaves the capital for a not-so-pleasant surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y'all enjoy

As the train lurched, beginning to draw away from the capital, I clutched the key in my hand tighter to my chest. A familiar feeling began to pump through my veins, thicker than the blood that I knew had been spilled over this key. Guilt and greed had both marred the once glinting surface, marred its past and was sure to mar its future. Like me, this little thing had never left the capital. It had never felt the hands of the commoners or heard the words of those not in the aristocracy. It had never fallen to the hearts of criminals or to the wretched claws of liars.

My eyes flicked up to the window, reminded of my home as the darkening horizon began to swallow it up. The capital, Jinjing. The Gold City. It was said that it was once rich enough that it could have been covered with the fine luster, sweeping and evenly spread like the snow that had just begun to fall outside the window. Of course, my father was right: if those peasants and rebels had just stopped asking for _more_ all the time, if they just weren’t so _greedy_ , then maybe this capital could be as wealthy as the tales said.

Life was good.

Or was it?

And yet none of it made sense.

The fact that it was always the same. If the lines of age had not crinkled my father’s face, if my mother had never passed, and I had never grown taller, I’d think I was in the same world as a decade ago. We were all aging, yet nothing ever became different. “Nothing lasts forever,” which I found in countless books, seemed to have no meaning. 

None of those books could tell me why those thieving peasants were so persistent. I scoured every relevant book in every library, nothing could justify them. Even us governors didn’t starve for money that much. No one possibly be _that_ poor.

I knew I had to do something else. What little I had wasn’t enough.  

Now, I wasn’t pegged for being a runaway and never wanted to be one. All the same, there I was, crouched in the back of a train car wondering if I'd made the right choice, or if this was all for nothing. Tugging up my collar to protect against the increasingly bitter cold, I closed my eyes and laid my head against the window. If I’d ever see something I wanted, and somehow didn’t want to see. Or if maybe I'd just come home, finding that my father had been right to keep me confined to JinJing all along. 

Silently, the snow continued to skim over the glass of the window, and it wasn’t long before JinJing and the sun were no longer in sight.

 

*^*^*

 

Everything became smaller as the towns kept racing by. Little by little, JinJing seemed like only a fantasy, even though I’d spent my whole life there. The mansions first lost their decorative gardens, then the little details on the pillars and balconies, which soon disappeared completely. After only a few towns, what would be considered a small house in JinJing became the largest house on the block, then the largest in the town. Spaces no larger than my living room became normal, and I couldn’t help wondering how people could live in such cramped spaces.

The roads became narrower and unpaved, some of the ones having indents from carriages and horses thundering over them. The people’s dress deteriorated, and even though I hadn’t yet reached a place of rags, the state of their fabrics told me enough.

 _They weren’t just greedy fools, they needed everything they'd been asking for._ I was sure that if I went any further down this train’s line, I’d probably vomit. _Hell, I was already queasy from knowing that all my father’s words were a lie._

I needed to get out. Just… out of this train, out of the _nothing_ that spread before me like the busy horizon of JinJing once did.

The train station I stumbled into was dingy and the clerk didn’t seem to care about anything other than these things they called “heiqian," which had nothing to do with the train itself. There was a small babble of speech, muted under a couple drunkards catcalling the guys in line before me. I passed through without any qualms, but still knew that I stood out. My posture didn’t have the same weariness or age, nor the same weight of knowledge.

Rounding the corner of the outside of the train station, I was met with a silent dead end. Not hesitating, I slammed my head into the brick, grimacing as I felt the skin on my forehead break and the unnaturally warm blood drip down. For a moment, I stared only at the ground, watching as the snow began to fall heavier. There was already an inch.

_Where is my home...? Where is the "truth" I was told...?_

“Hey. Ya from the gov’rnment?”

I turned to the voice, it was only a man with a ragged hoodie pulled over his face. The cuffs of his jeans were splattered with mud and something else I couldn’t quite place, and the ends of the sleeves were shredded. On instinct, I withdrew a step, eyeing how he warily strolled up to me. Taking his time, letting the silence swirl around like the snow in the wind, clearly judging every breath I took, every shift of my weight. I remained in place even as he advanced, trying to be resolute when he stopped five feet away.

“Is there something you want from me?”

He jutted his chin out. “I asked ya if yer government scum.”

“Sir, the government’s no scum,” I said, instantly regretting it. “And I’m not from the government.”

“Oh don’t bother lying. I knew what ya were before ya even got offa that train,” the pain in my gut registered before I had realized that he moved, and I ended up crumpling at his feet. His hand, which was larger than I initially thought it to be, seized my collar and yanked me up. “ _Scum_. I’d kill ya but I’m givin ya a choice.”

He shook me, and I grunted with the force. “What ch--”

“Gov’rnment people ain’t never got business here. Ya don’t look like yer on an official trip. Ya don’t even look of age,” he gave me another shake for good measure. “Yer a runaway.”

Heat shot through my face, sure as a bullet, ruining the facade that I had barely even been keeping up in the first place. I had no chance. I couldn’t even disprove his first point about the government being here.

“Say it. That yer a runaway. Ya can’t be a runaway until ya fully embrace that ya _really_ are one of ‘em,” he egged me on. “Say it.”

“W… why? How do you know so much?” it felt like spiders are crawling up my back, and I shivered both out of cold and out of fear. “Why should I trust you?”

“‘Cause runaways ain’t got time to be run over, tramped on. So say it. Repeat after me: I’m a runaway.”

"I'm not a runaway, I don't know what you're talking about!"

"C'mon, scum. Do you feel like the gov'rnment has wronged you?" 

“No!"

"I can smell yer fear and it ain't tellin me that 'no' is what ya mean. Is it true that they've wronged ya?"

I resisted the urge to squirm away, barely managing to keep my panic back. "Y… yeah.”

His voice became quiet and stern. “Yeah? Be clear, _child_.”

The doubt and the diminishing word drew more anger I wished, and I raised my voice before realizing that he used the word only to bait me. “Yes!”

Firmer, darker now. “Ah, yeah, why?”

“They’ve… lied to me.”

His grip tightened. “Heh. They lie to ev'ryone, not surprisin that they lie to wonna of 'eir young too. Tell me, are ya angry that they stole the truth from ya?”

I paused, knowing that from there on out, there was no turning back. But one could say that the turning point was even before now: leaving the capital, leaving the home I'd never left before, taking the key my father had never let go. “I am… I’m… infuriated.”

“Good," his tongue ran over his lips as a snowflake melted on his nose, and the air seemed to bristle with both heat and the chilly breath of frost. "Now let's try again: are ya a runaway?”

Even though the words didn’t feel right in my mouth, like cardboard had suddenly been stuffed into the back of my throat, I conceded, because that was all my father ever taught me to do. “I’m… I’m a runaway.”

“Good,” he hauled me up, knocking me on the shoulder.

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Welcome to the rebellion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: JinJing （金京）in Mandarin Chinese literally means Gold City.  
> Heiqian （黑钱）literally means black money, as a sort of indirect allusion to the rural black market.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama is the New Kid

###  **II**

 

The man lead me to another discreet alleyway, where four men seemed to me waiting. Two of them had hoods; one was short and loud with a small bag in hand, while the other was very tall and had a quiet, nervous way of speaking, often crossing and uncrossing his arms. One of the ones without a hood was a child no taller than my waist, shivering in only a faded white T-shirt, running her hands through a messy bird’s nest of orange hair. The last one, as we approached, was a twenty-something woman with a confident, open stance, a thick leather collar around her neck and short blond hair. 

“Shush, Noya! Ukai’s coming!” the tall hooded one whisper-shouted, just loud enough for me to hear. 

“No sweat, Asahi!” the woman laughed, hitting the man on the shoulder. “I told ya he’d be back, he’s not like your loser of a dad.”

“Saeko!” he protested right back and shifted his weight, eyeing the little girl who didn’t even raise her head. 

The man leading me sighed, using the same firm voice he used with me. “Pipe down, all of ya. I found this kid. Aristocrat runaway, by the looks of it.” 

My brow furrowed at being talked down to by these lowlifes, but I didn’t try to pick a fight. After all, I didn’t know what kind of rebellion this man spoke of, so I was best not making any potentially wrong moves. Even though I knew that my status outranked theirs and that made me an outsider, proper mannerisms could possibly take me further than I was anticipating. All the same, I averted my gaze to avoid thiers, following the gaze of the child to the snow. 

“He’s coming with us…?” the short hooded one asked, a hint of excitement in his voice, corresponding with a hint of fear in my heart. I could almost feel their scrutinization and judgement, burning like fire. 

“Yeah.” 

“I doubt him…” the tall figure whispered, and I felt like melting into the snow right then and there. I didn’t know what it was about being such an outsider, and didn’t understand why suddenly these peasants had such a higher class than me. It felt hopeless. 

Tuning them out, I reached my hand deeper in my pocket, fingering my father’s key.  _ Well, this is what makes you special, Tobio. No matter what they do to you, this key makes you better than them. Even if you don’t know where it leads to.  _

Glancing at the girl again, I sighed, beginning to kick at my own little bit of snow, paying no mind to the ongoing blathering of the other three people. 

I snapped back to attention at the woman’s next words as she sauntered further down the alleyway, climbing some stairs to what looked like some kind of back door. “Alrighty. Let’s bring ‘em in.”

The lock gave a loud, foreboding clack, and the tall hooded man murmured under his breath, “We should get a better door, something that doesn’t make so much  _ noise _ .”

The woman pushed the door inward, opening to a long, narrow corridor, lit only by candles. The rest of us followed single file, with the leader man right on my heels. As I eyed the peeling paint on the walls, the grooves of the key seemed to dig deeper into my hand. The faint smell of something burning wafted up to my nose, so different from the clean smell that was almost overbearing in JinJing. Meanwhile, the hubbub of several people grew louder as we kept up our soft tread. 

“Take off yer coat,” I spun in the semi-darkness to the leader man, who had now removed his hood, finding a surprisingly young man with long blonde hair held by a faded red bandana. His left ear had three piercings, each with a small silver ring. “If ya want ‘em to accept ya better, ya can’t go struttin’ around in that. Looks too good.”

The babbling continued in the background as I hesitantly shed the jacket, making sure to secretly pocket the key in my jeans. Now feeling bare in my dark blue T-shirt, I gripped the fabric in my hands, trying to decipher the cryptic look he was giving me. Contrasting the force he used on me before, he gently drew the coat from my fingertips and finally said, “good enough.”

We approached another door, through which the rowdiest crowd I’d ever seen appeared. Fifty or so people were both gravely and animatedly chatting in clusters, dress ranging from mere sheets to hand-stitched clothing to high class JinJing and KeShe style clothing. All of these people, however, were claimed by the remains of snow or mud. 

The blonde man pushed his way forward, cupping his hands to shout over the crowd. “ALL RIGHT SUCKERS, GUESS WHO’S BACK?” 

“Ukai! Welcome back!” a teenager with a sturdy build and dark brown hair came forward, shaking the hand of the blonde man (who I assumed was Ukai) and then giving the three other people I’d come with high fives. “Noya, Asahi, Saeko. And whoozzis?”

By now, most the noise and talk had faded, and all the eyes in the room were pinned on me. In my vulnerability, I folded my arms. “Kageyama Tobio.”

“Where yeh from?” 

Keeping my gaze down, I hesitated in a small voice. I’ve always hated introducing myself. The silence was deafening, the ceiling was too low, the floor was too rickety, and the key was going to make me bleed if I could hold on any tighter, and I was sure that they all thought I was just a weak capital kid who couldn’t fend for himself or anything. Deep breaths stay calm the world’s not falling and the snow isn’t choking and---

“Kid.”

My bleak gaze found Ukai’s, who murmured, “You can do this. Get past this and you’ve done the hardest part of today. Steel yerself. Worse will come.”

I nodded slowly, fighting the urge to squirm. “I’m from JinJing. Uh…” I looked back at him, then to the floor. “A JinJing runaway. I… didn’t feel right in the city. Like I was…” I faltered, searching for the right words. “Like I was being lied to.”

The teenager gave me a careful look, nonetheless stretching his hand out in greeting. I took it firmly, impressed by the security I felt with the heat radiating off of his hand. Impressed by how stable and at home he seemed even in this dodgy place. 

After a few seconds, which only felt like hours under the gazes of so many people, he responded. “I’m Daichi. Niceta meet yeh,” then he turned to the crowd, taking my hand in his and raising it above his head. “WELCOME, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TO THE REBELLION!”

The crowd spoke back in unison, as a terrifying mass of force. Of voice. Of sorrow too large to bear, of anger, of uprising, of a sort of  _ togetherness _ that I’d never felt before. I almost covered my ears and buried my fance in my hands, but I knew better. If this was what I was going to do from now on… this, I could take. I had to. 

“BRING FORTH THE EAGLES’ DEATH! AND WITH THEM, RISE THE PHOENIX, BROUGHT FORTH FROM ASHES’ BREATH.”

They all broke out into raucous cheers and clapping, and some continued chanting the phrase about the eagles. Even though they had separated into their little groups fairly, these people were stable and inexplicably linked, comfortable in each other’s presence unlike the stiff nature of JinJing. Even I felt drawn to this sort of makeshift family, and I had been through the door no longer than two minutes. 

Little did I know that those four or so hours would make my whole life be shot like a dove, and then soar like never before. The four hours that had shown me the truth: JinJing wasn’t the only thing out here, and that what I saw there would never match anything I saw here. 

If my father was afraid of these rebels, he had a damn well right to be. 

If he had heard that same thing I heard in that mass, he’d know that pain, above all else, united us. Deceit, corruption, everything that society wasn’t supposed to be. But through all that, he’d know that there was  _ hope _ . And if he was standing where I was now, feeling the rush of energy both in and out of my chest and the air around me, he’d know there was something else. 

He’d know that we might just be  _ unstoppable _ . 


End file.
